The title is a description of my old life...but these days I ramble on about widowhood, homeschooling, single parenting, adoption, special-needs parenting, & living a life I never planned for or expected - a life that God, thankfully, continues to strengthen & equip me for daily...

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Day 248

DIARY OF AN UNWILLING WIDOW

Feb. 9, 2014

Day 248

What a day…I went
to church with half the kids. The other
half are all battling colds. I was fine,
sat through Sunday and School and the opening part of the church service. And then someone got up to sing special
music. It was “Give Me Jesus.” This was Paul’s funeral song. Actually, I had two songs sung, this one and “It
is Well.” But the first one was one I
picked out years ago for him (I know – morbid of me) because it so clearly
spoke of his life, I felt. The thing is,
I love that song! I have an actual recording of it being sung at his funeral on
my mp3 player and I take comfort in playing that. But today was different. I thought I’d be ok, but before I knew it, I
was sitting in the pew with tears streaming down my face. So I left and found a quiet spot on the
steps. I leaned my head against the wall
and just let the pain wash over me.
Before I knew it, a friend was there, wrapping her arms around me and
just letting me cry and cry. I know I
should probably be embarrassed, but mostly, I’m just grateful she was there. A few
minutes later another friend popped her head around the corner and told me she
was just checking on me because she knew the significance of that song for me. I don’t know if was because this was the
first time the song had been sung in the same church where we had Paul’s
funeral or if I would have been ok if this was any month besides February. I’ve been weepy ever since. This could end up being a very long month at
the rate I’m going!

*******************************************************

Will told me Friday that he got the full time
job up at camp. But he had known since
Tuesday when he called the camp director.
I asked him why he didn’t tell me and he said that he was asked to keep
the information under his hat until Friday when the information would be made
public. I don’t think that means keeping
it from your mother! He may be leaving
as early as the final week in May. He
will get back in August and leave 6 days later for college. So, in essence, he only has about 3 months
left at home.

He assures me the work on the house will be
completed. I have my doubts but don’t
want to discourage him. Of course, I was
convinced a year ago that Paul would not get the kitchen done in time for Will’s
graduation party, but he did! Yesterday,
Will finished up the bathroom. All that
remains is to hang the towel bars. I
took my first bath last night for the first time in a month, which was heavenly! The last time we did a bathroom project, I
was without a tub for 7 months. So this
was not bad! He says we’re starting my
new bedroom tomorrow.

But it’s not just the house projects. Will has been my buffer for the past 8
months. When I don’t know how something
works, I ask him. When something needs
to be fixed, he fixes it. He’s my
second-in-command with the rest of the kids, he gives me financial advice, and
lately, he’s even been my protector. A
neighbor guy has been getting a little too friendly, stepping over some boundaries
(what IS it about married men and widows?
This is my third uncomfortable situation I have run into since
Paul’s death – this may end up being a blog rant at some point!) and Will has
been running interference, even offering to talk to the guy if I want him to.

What an expression! But wow, my cake was gorgeous - I had forgotten how pretty that thing was.

So losing him is going to be more than the
typical mama’s-sending-her-baby-off-to-college kind of emotion. I’m going to be bereft. I’m going to have to learn to stand on my
own, is what it’s going to be. I don’t
want to! But I have to. It’s the right thing. He has his dreams and it’s time for him to
step into his own life, without clingy Mom holding him down and dividing his
loyalties.

I’ll still have
the others of course, including quirky Sam, who reminds me of Will at the same
age in a lot of ways. Sam is a little
more intense, though. The other day he
commented, “You basically work all day, Mom, don’t you?” Then he added, “It’s because you don’t get
much help.” I think I love this
child! Last night he told me with some
relief in his voice, “David said when a husband or wife dies the one who is
still alive can’t get married again.” I
quickly explained to him that he had misunderstood, that I could remarry if God brings someone along, but he wasn’t to worry
about because that would not be happening for a long, long time. Sam looked at me sleepily (I was putting him
to bed when we had this conversation) and said, “Well, I still like our old dad
better!”

*******************************************************

I’m frustrated
right now with the kids’ teeth – specifically, their need for a dentist. They have all had a wonderful dentist in
Clive for years. Ben needs special care
when it comes to his teeth because he’s hyper-sensitive to touch and it can be
hard to find a dentist willing to work with special needs individuals. Ben has always had Medicaid because of his
needs. But all the other kids got bumped
to that after Paul’s death because we no longer had an income. Well, Obamacare kicked in and this fall, our
wonderful dentist told us that he was dropping all his Medicaid patients. I was saddened, but figured we’d find someone
new. I finally started making calls this
last week and I can’t find anyone willing to take on my kids. And I can’t just go to any old dentist,
anyway, because of Ben. I don’t know
what to do. David needs braces and I’d
like to find a different orthodontist than the one he’s been seeing (because I’ve
been told he’s the most expensive ortho in town). Actually, now that David is on Medicaid, it’s
possible that this ortho may no longer see him, either. But neither can I find a new orthodontist
willing to take him on. There are a
couple of clinics on the east side of Des Moines that I have been told take new
Medicaid patients, but they’re in poorer sections of town and attract a
lower-class clientele (I know – that makes me sound totally snobby with a I’m-better-than-the-masses
attitude) so I’m reluctant to go. But I
may not have a choice in the end. Thank
you Mr. Obama. Thank you ignorant, greedy,
welfare-minded American voters…

*******************************************************************

I have a new friend that I met through my
blog. I adore her – completely! We
actually met in person for the first time the other night and had a marvelous
time connecting over supper. She told me
that she is going through my entire blog and reading every single post. I haven’t even ever done that! Even if I had the time, I think I’d be
embarrassed to read who I was five years ago (since I’m SO mature now, you
know!). And, like I mentioned the other
day, I am not the person I was before Paul died. I’m probably too hard on myself. But she piqued my curiosity and so
yesterday, I decided to just, at random, read an old post. I went back to February of last year. As it turned out, I had posted on Feb. 8, which was yesterday’s
date. So I read what I had written a
year ago to the day.

I was completely stressed out a year ago. That stress was leading to struggles with
depression. I had too much going on and
I was letting things that didn’t really matter color my entire perspective on
life. I didn’t totally recognize that at
the time, of course. Unfortunately, it
often takes something tragic to open our eyes to what is truly important. In my case, I was somewhat aware that things
were not right and I was actually getting counseling and seeking to make some
changes in my life. But reading that
post made me sad to see what a dark place I really was in. Of course, I’m sure that someday when I
re-read my posts from the past 8 months, they are not exactly going to ring
with joy, either! It’s a little more
understandable this time around, though.

But, something interesting: my friend emailed me
a copy of two paragraphs I wrote in January of 2009. I had just started blogging and wrote an
entire post about “sturdy, Midwestern stock,” a phrase that still appeals to
me. I think of these hardy pioneer women
who battled the elements, tragedy, and a harsh, unforgiving land as they forged out an
existence for their family. This is what
I wrote:

It's one thing to have the luxury of living a life like what is
available to us now. There's nothing wrong with appreciating the advances of
technology. But one thing I hope that hasn't changed is some intestinal
fortitude. I like to think that I have the same determination and strength of
character that my great grandmothers evidenced. Not knowing them, I don't know.
I can only guess. I don't think of myself as a particularly strong person and
when I envision some of the horrible things in life that could happen, like
losing a child to death, widowhood, or having my house burn down the mere
thought just makes me quake. But maybe it did to them, too. However, when the
hard times came, they found the strength to continue on. And I hope that is
part of my character as well.

The best part is knowing that it isn't up to me. One thing I have, that
I'm not sure if my great grandmothers did, is the knowledge that my strength
comes from God. Left on my own, I will fail. I will fall down trembling in the
face of some of life's more brutal realities and, but for the Lord's strength,
I probably won't get up again. God gives us strength as we need it, during our
time of need, when we are most helpless. That I know and that knowledge gives
great comfort. Fortunately, I'm probably never going to need that strength to
run a farm or to shoot Indians, though!

Much more relaxed! This was 3 days later on our honeymoon, at Mall of America. I love this picture!

2 Corinthians 12:9 And He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee:
for my strength is made perfect in weakness..."

Quite honestly, I was stunned when I read
this last night. How did I know? I didn’t,
of course. I didn’t know the trials that
awaited us. I didn’t know the darkness
that would envelope us as we sought to adopt. When I wrote that, I didn’t even know adoption
was on the horizon! I didn’t know that widowhood and single parenthood was
waiting for me. Even as I typed that,
five years ago, time was quickly running out for Paul and me. I thought we had forever. Very rarely do we ever have an inkling of
trials and sorrow that await until they are upon us.

But I am so thankful my friend sent these
words to me – my own words that I can be encouraged by now. Of course, they are not just my words. It’s Scriptural principles – truth that
remains constant in an ever-shifting and changing world. Maybe I need to spend some time reading more
of what I wrote!

Or maybe I should spend more time reading
what was written by the ultimate Author.
That would probably be a better idea.